


Hill Gang Blues

by kindaquirky



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: #20Batteen, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Mob, Established Relationship, M/M, Mob Boss Tim Drake, NO CAPES, Police Officer Jason Todd, Prompt Fic, but blink and you'll miss it, for once, relationships are hard, slight one-sided Conner/Tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 05:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindaquirky/pseuds/kindaquirky
Summary: "You shot me!" Jason snaps, slamming the door to the condo behind him. "I can't believe you shot me!"Life, love, and violence.





	Hill Gang Blues

**Author's Note:**

> This was, yet again, one of those random prompts found on Pinterest that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it for #20batteen. And of course, I had to do a role swap, because why make it easy on myself and make the cannonical mob boss a mob boss?
> 
> Edit: updated to add a summary. Because I'm an idiot.

"You shot me!" Jason snaps, slamming the door to the condo behind him. "I can't believe you shot me!"  
"So one," Tim calls from his workroom, "I didn't shoot you. I would never, will never," he says, coming out and meeting Jason at the kitchen island. "And two, I heard it was just a graze."  
"Oh, well, that makes it better."  
"It's already been taken care of," Tim says eyes never leaving the white gauze peeking out under Jason's GCPD t-shirt. "Are you ok? Really?"  
"Yeah," Jason's sighs, letting Tim pull him down into a tight hug. "Just tell your men to stop taking cheap shots at every cop they see."  
"And get kicked out of the mob boss Sunday brunch?" Tim jokes, resting his hand on Jason's bicep, just under the gauze. "I'll see what I can do."

 

 _Now_  
If anyone had asked Jason where he saw his life going, being on the fast track for Captain would not have been his top of the list. Or top five. Wouldn't have even been on the list. He would have said dead by twenty.  
Instead, like most of his life, it's been unexpected turn after turn to get him here.  
Here being the Police Ball with Tim schmoozing it up with Commissioner Gordon while Jason gets the nervous sweats.  
"I can see why you all love him," Tim whispers to Jason as Gordon is waved over to another couple. "He's wonderful. Really believes in doing what's best for the city."  
"Babe," Jason says as he pulls him away from the crowds and behind a pillar. "You can’t just walk up to the fucking Commissioner and start talking about the new policies against organized crime getting enacted next year.”  
“Why?” Tim asks, pulling the lapels of Jason’s uniform straight.  
“Because you’re not supposed to know. No one is supposed to know yet. What happens when your business associates know before the men on the ground?”  
“Jace. He was the one talking to me about it, as one does to a citizen married to a ‘hot rising star’,” Tim laughs, straightening Jason’s tie. His hands wander down his chest to wrap around Jason’s waist, pulling him close. Jason’s arms automatically pull Tim towards him, so that Tim can lean up and whisper in his ear.  
“Little Robby let me know two weeks ago what to expect. We’re good.”  
“Gordon didn’t call me a hot anything,” Jason grumbles as Tim drops back onto his heels.  
“Well, he’s getting up there, probably losing his eyesight,” Tim says, cackling as Jason shoves him away and storms off.

 

 _Then_  
When Jason was eleven, he had honestly thought the short, scrawny kid in the foster home he had been shoved into wouldn’t last a week without a little help. And Jason was a sucker for anything with big doe eyes and in need of a good meal. So little Timmy, left on his own after both his parents had died had become Jason’s shadow. Wherever Jason went, Tim was sure to follow.  
He hadn’t expected the kid to just be so damn _good_ at pulling cons. People saw Jason, with his bulky frame, long limbs and constantly bruised knuckles and wrote him off as already lost. They looked at Tim, and saw those big blue eyes, sad smile, and fell all over themselves to make sure he had what he needed. With Tim, Jason didn’t go hungry, always got the best places to sleep. And with Jason, Tim always had someone to watch his back, made sure no one thought twice about messing with them again. Together, they had a family.  
"It'll be easy. It's a quick pick up and drop off, Jason."  
"Nu-uh. It's never a one and done with Penguin," Jason says, keeping pace with Tim. He pulls Tim into a side street, arms crossing as Tim leans against the dirty wall, looking off to the side.  
"What's going on? I thought you said no more Falcone, no more Penguin."  
"You said that," Tim mumbles, but sighs and turns to look at Jason. "He's paying double what he normally does. We can save the extra, put it away so that when you age out, you can have enough money for a place. Remember? Just the two of us?"  
"Why do you always lie first?" Jason sighs. "You're almost thirteen, the helpless baby routine doesn't work anymore."  
"Well, not on you."  
"Tim."  
"Penguin mentioned my dad," Tim finally snaps, arms coming up to cross as well. He pushes off the wall, Jason taking an automatic step backwards. "When I was trying to get us a better deal. After I left the office, I was leaning on the door, and I heard him tell the other guy, 'If Jack Drake had been half the negotiator his son was, maybe he'd still be alive'. He knows what happened to my parents."  
"A plane crash happened to your parents," Jason says softly, reaching out for Tim, who just takes a step away.  
"No. They didn't have anything planned. No new business, no new adventures. The cops couldn't even find the flight manifest."  
"You said they left without telling you all the time."  
"I know what I said!" Tim snaps. Tim turns away from Jason, but not fast enough that he doesn't catch the frustrated tears starting to form.  
"How do you know he wasn't just fucking with you?"  
"What would he gain by doing that?"  
"You. Because until you figure it out, you won't leave him alone," Jason says, walking over and wrapping his arm around Tim's shoulders. Tim deflates and leans hard into Jason.  
Even years after realizing how touch starved Tim was, it still amazes him how Tim just falls into Jason's comfort so easily.  
"We'll figure it out. Together. And you're not gonna go and make deals without me again. And you're definitely not gonna go and search out Penguin without me, right?"  
"Yeah, yeah ok," Tim says.  
Jason doesn't know why Tim always lies first.

 

 _Now_  
“I swear to God, Jason, if I catch you leaving your muddy cleats in the middle of the floor again, I’m cutting off your feet,” Jason hears as he walks into the condo. He waves Grayson in after him, and calls out.  
“Evening sweetness, is this a terrible time to ask you to bring out that hospitality I know you have?” Jason gestures for Dick to leave his gym bag at the door as he drops his cleats on the floor.  
“Why? Oh, Dick!” Tim shouts as he looks over his shoulder, leaving the kitchen to meet them in the living room.  
“How’s life treating you, kid?” Dick asks as he comes in for a hug. Tim squawks as Dick pulls him in against his sweaty shirt.  
“Guess the game went well?” Tim mumbles against Dick’s chest as Jason strips down to his undershirt.  
“Destroyed those Diamond District losers. As usual,” Jason laughs as Tim finally disentangles himself from Dick’s strong arms. Jason gets a smack on the arm for his laughter, but Tim lets Jason pull him into a long kiss while Dick makes himself at home in the kitchen.  
“It’s fine guys, just pretend I’m not here. My virgin eyes see not a thing.”  
“Don’t you have a home?” Jason sighs as Tim pulls away and kicks Jason’s cleats at him pointedly.  
“But yours is so cozy.”  
“Damian staying at your place again?” Tim cuts in, taking the glass of water Dick hands him. Jason holds out his hand for one, but Dick walks around him to take a seat on the couch.  
“Floor!” Tim yells before Dick can plant himself. “You are covered in dirt, do not sit on my couch like that. If you do, you’re covering the cleaning bills.”  
“He’s a good kid,” Dick says, sliding to sit on the hardwood floor. “He’s just. Trying at times. Most times. Just, just all the time.”  
Tim hands Jason the glass of water and goes to lay out on the couch, pointedly looking at the cleats still in the middle of the living room.  
“Send him home?”  
“Can’t. I’m starting a new case soon, so I won’t have a lot of time coming up to see him. I don’t want him thinking he’s a burden. He’s not, he’s just...”  
“Exhausting?” Jason asks, “Angry? Unhappy?”  
“This is why no one goes to him with problems,” Dick complains, making Tim snicker.  
“New missing person?” Tim asks as Jason comes to lean over the couch.  
“New department,” Dick says, finishing his water and placing the glass on the coffee table. “I’m heading over to Narcotics for a few weeks to help with some big case. May be a step up for me. Just gotta figure out who the supplier is, and then we can start placing the wires. You know how it is.”  
“I don’t know why you’re worried. Gordon loves you. Doesn’t help you’re in good with his daughter. Real good,” Jason winks.  
“Jason,” Tim whines, smacking his arm. “I have to be able to look her in the face next week at the conference. Don’t make it weird.”  
“How is Redbird doing?” Dick asks, gesturing to the condo. “Pretty well?”  
“Are you asking as my partner's friend, or as my direct competition’s...something.”  
“I’m not your friend?” Dick whines, not answering.  
“Go home,” Jason says, making Dick huff. “Go hang out with your lady who refuses to call you her boyfriend, and your not-actually-brother who also refuses your family ties, so I can make out with my weird life partner.”  
“Gross,” Dick says, getting up from the floor. Tim sits up to wave Dick goodbye.  
“Good luck with the case!”  
“Thanks! Who knows, maybe this will be the one that breaks the Ghost Dragons wide open,” Dick says as Jason shoves Dicks gym bag at him.  
“I hope so. Be good to finally get them off the streets,” Tim gets out just before Jason shoves Dick out the door.  
“Goodbye. Leave. Tim refuses to take his clothes off when you’re here, so begone.”  
“Who even says ‘begone’ anymore?” Dick yells through the closed door.  
“No work shit at home. You promised,” Jason says, hands resting on his hips.  
“I wasn’t the one that brought it up! And you know I don’t deal with the Dragons anymore,” Tim says, crawling on the couch to get closer to Jason. “Besides, even if I did, Lynx wouldn’t listen to a word I had to say, and I wouldn’t put Dick in that kind of danger. Ever.”  
“Yeah. The trials of having a clingy ex-partner.”  
“Friend, darling. The word you’re looking for is friend.”  
“You’re killing the mood.”  
“Was there a mood? I thought you just wanted Dick to go home,” Tim smiles, making Jason huff.  
“I have just won a soccer match against the Diamond District station. I made two goals. Did I mention I made the winning pass? I am full of masculine energy right now.”  
“Wow,” Tim deadpans, face going slack. “Who could resist such a blatant offer.”  
“Let me sweeten the pot,” Jason says, coming to stand in front of Tim. “First,” he says, pulling off his undershirt and tossing it on top of his cleats. He gestures to his chest, making a point to run his hand over his abs.  
Tim breaks eye contact, only to roll his eyes.  
“Second,” Jason says, and picks up his cleats, his undershirt, and his jersey. He heads to the small closet in the kitchen that holds their washer and dryer. He places his shoes in the closet, next to his dirty work shoes, and completely strips down, putting his dirty uniform in the washer and starting the cycle. Jason walks back over to the couch where Tim is now cackling, falling back to laying down.  
“That’s how you proposition someone? By doing the laundry?”  
“Did it work?” Jason is already smiling, leaning over the couch.  
“I have honestly never wanted you more,” Tim says, pulling him fully down.

 

 _Then_  
"Jason," Jason hears from his side, a small hand shaking him. He already knows it's Tim, no one else at the home would dare come near their bunks. "Jason, wake up. I need you."  
And if that's not enough to get Jason hopping up, fully awake, nothing is.  
"What's wrong?" His busted lip still burns when he talks from the fight he had started that night. But like always, Tim talked the cops into arresting the two guys that had tried picking Tim up, rather than Jason. "I need your help."  
"When do you not?" Jason grouses, sliding down from his bunk. Tim just barely moves out of the way, and their arms and legs brush together.  
Jason's almost seventeen now, old enough to know why he gets warm around Tim, why his palms are always sweaty. He’s also old enough to realize that Tim is fourteen, and that he’ll never let it be more than friendship.  
The look Tim gives him is enough to make Jason flinch. He’s pale, and the hurt written across his face makes Jason feel like a moron for snapping at him after everything that happened tonight.  
“I didn’t mean that.”  
“No, no of course not. I just need you to cover for me for a couple days. Less than a week,” Tim says, and Jason can just see the straps of his backpack in the ambient light from outside, and that Tim already has his sneakers on.  
“Let me get dressed,” Jason starts, but Tim grabs his biceps before he can turn away.  
“You’re not coming. I need you to cover for me. Which means you stay here. Go to school, call me in, just make sure no one notices. I’ll be back soon.”  
“Where are you going?” Jason snaps, causing Tim to shush him so the rest of the boys in the room don’t wake up.  
“I’ve just got to handle something. It’s got to do with my parents.”  
“You’re parents are gone, Tim," Jason repeats, for what feels like the hundredth time.  
“You think I don’t know? But I found something, and I need to get more information. But no one’s gonna talk to the both of us, so it has to be just me.”  
“What? I don’t fit the socialite image? I’m hurt,” Jason is joking but isn’t lying. He’s hurt that Tim thinks he can’t handle himself. He’s hurt that Tim did all this and never once thought to talk to Jason about his search. He’s hurt that now he knows Tim doesn’t love him the way Jason does.  
“I will come back. I promise. I just need time,” Tim’s conviction is strong, in the grasp he has on Jason, in the tightness in his shoulders, in the eyes that haven’t left Jason’s face.  
Catherine had been big on promises too.  
“Yeah. Yeah, ok. But just till the end of the week. If you’re not back, I’m not lying.”  
“You won’t have to,” Tim reaches up, and Jason’s last growth spurt has put so much distance between them that Jason has to bend his knees to allow Tim to fling his arms around Jason’s shoulders. Jason holds him tight, gives one extra squeeze before he lets Tim go, and helps to close the window behind him.  
Tim’s not back by the end of the week. 

 

 _Now_  
It’s been almost twenty hours, and Jason hasn’t even gotten a text from Tim. Tim wasn’t always the best with time management when he got too deep into a job, but he always remembered to let Jason know he was alright. He hasn’t.  
Jason should be heading to bed, he’s in the middle of wrapping up a case, just waiting for the paperwork to be filed, and he knows that as soon as it’s through, Gordon is going to be slapping a new half dozen files on his desk. He’ll need the rest, but right now he’s stress cleaning the stove, waiting to hear from Tim. He’s tried calling, texting, emails. Nothing. The TV has been off for hours after Jason had confirmation that there had been no deaths in the warehouse district fires. The casualties from the shootout that had happened afterwards between one of the gangs and the police had still yet to come in. At this point, he’s going to run out of all-purpose cleaner.  
He hears the key turning in the lock and turns to see the door open. Tim is a wreck, hair askew, button down covered in what looks like soot. His eyes are hollow, but when he catches Jason’s eye, they fill with worry.  
“Babe, I am so sorry. I think my phone got caught in the fire, and Cass wouldn’t let me leave until we could be sure it wasn’t something retaliatory,” Tim starts, but Jason cuts him off by heading into their bedroom.  
“Jason. Jace,” Tim calls as he follows him in. “Conner said he would call you as soon as he could. The fire actually wasn’t that bad, and they think it was an electrical short, you know how Burnely is. Jay. Jay, come on,” Tim says as he leans against the bathroom door jamb. “Are you not talking to me? Just gonna shower and go to bed? I’m sorry. It wasn’t something I could control.”  
Jason wants to lash out. Wants to call him out for pretending like Conner would even think about calling Jason, with their shared, blatant dislike. Wants to snap about how it must feel to not be in control for once, to not have everything laid out step by step the way Tim wants it, others be damned. Wants to scream that the first thing he should have done was call Jason, because that’s what Jason does. Never makes Tim worry, never leaves him hanging, never makes a promise he can’t keep.  
“Get in the shower,” Jason whispers instead, stripping out of his sweatpants. When Tim doesn’t follow the order, Jason steps over to him and begins divesting him of his ash covered clothes himself. Tim stands there, just watching Jason, only helping once Jason goes to kneel to remove Tim's socks. Jason goes in first, and Tim gives him a moment to collect himself before joining him.  
"Jason," Tim starts again, but Jason cuts him off by reaching for the bath wash behind him.  
"Shut. Just, be quiet. Quiet," Jason gets out, his teeth clenched. He goes about washing Tim down with almost clinical disinterest, until he gets to Tim's forearm, where there's a streak of red, blistered skin.  
"Did you get this looked at?" Jason asks softly, gently wiping the washcloth over the area  
"Yeah," Tim says quietly, head down, but leaning towards Jason. "Cass checked it out, it's just superficial. Doesn't even hurt that bad."  
"Yet," Jason says, pulling the overpriced shampoo Tim demands for his precious locks. Tim stops him, reaching for Jason's all in one instead. He takes longer than Jason did, to the point of turning Jason around and massaging his tense lower back. Once he's done he pulls Jason close, wrapping his arms completely around him and resting his head between Jason's shoulders.  
"I really thought he would call. He said he would. I promised you I wouldn't leave again. I promised I would do my absolute, outright best to always come home. To you. And I did."  
"But what if you don't?" Jason finally gets out, staring at the smooth white tile of the shower. He can't turn to look at Tim, not quite yet.  
Tim only tightens his hold, "What about you? Police work isn't known for being the safest. What if you don't?"  
"This isn't about me."  
"It's not _not_ about you. I am surrounded by people whose job it is to keep me safe. Two of whom treat it like their life calling. You don't have that. Please, take what I'm saying for the truth it is. I did my damndest to get back home tonight, including letting Cass hang out on our roof until she feels comfortable letting me pee by myself again. And I will. _I always will_."  
"You could have invited her in."  
"I didn't think you'd want an audience for the rest of the evening. You hate arguing with an audience."  
"What if I'm too tired to argue anymore?" Jason whispers, and he can feel Tim's breathing shutter behind him, he's so close.  
"Please. I came home. Just to argue with you."  
Jason has to struggle to make Tim loosen his hold enough to let him turn around and pull Tim against his chest. Tim rests against Jason's chest, and now that Jason is really looking, he can see small bruises forming across Tim's body, and a few more smaller burns on his shins.  
"Tomorrow," Jason says, pulling down Tim's shampoo and slowly working it in. "Tomorrow, I'll argue."  
"And tonight?"  
"Tonight," Jason chokes, rinsing Tim's hair and grabbing for the conditioner, "You're home."

 

 _Then_  
"Jason? Jason Todd?" Jason hears as he waits for Dick outside the man's favorite coffee shop. He turns, figuring it's one of his old academy acquaintances, it's not too far from here. Instead, he's met with a face that is eerily similar to his memories.  
"Hey, it's. It's Tim. Tim Drake?" The man pauses, hand pressed in his hair, like he forgot he was finger combing. He finally notices, and gets out an embarrassed laugh as he shoves his hand into his jacket pocket.  
Jason can't seem to figure out how to make his mouth work. Or his legs, arms, even breathing feels difficult. He only knows he's not dead because he can feel his heart pounding in his chest as Tim stands there, smile falling from his face.  
"God, I'm sorry, you probably don't even remember me. It’s just, I’d know that white streak anywhere and--"  
Tim's is drown out when Dick exits the coffee shop, calling out "got a sweet coffee for a sweetheart!"  
"Hey, this is when you snap at me about personal boundaries," Dick says, trying to shove Jason's coffee at him. Once he catches sight of Tim, Dick stops badgering Jason and smiles. "Oh, hey there! Do you know Jason? I'm Dick."  
"No, not really," Tim says, giving Dick a tight smile. "We use to run with each other when we were kids is all. Nice seeing you again, Jace," Tim says shaking the hand Dick holds out, after stacking both their drinks together since Jason has still yet to reach for his.  
"Wow, I never get to call him Jace. Must be nice. Jason, you ok over there?"  
Jason is decidedly not ok.  
"I probably just gave him a shock is all. I've got to go. You two enjoy your day," Tim says giving a quick wave and crossing the street before Dick can call him back over.  
"Seems like a weird guy. Seriously Jason, are you breathing?"  
Jason watches Tim cross the street and heads around a corner before he can take a deep breath again.  
"He's back," Jason gets out, Dick raising both his eyebrows at him.  
"I saw that," Dick says slowly, turning to place their cups on a window ledge. "You seem a little surprised."  
"I-I'll be right back," Jason says as he races across the street.  
He hears Dick bark out his name, but is too focused on catching up to Tim to care about him right now.  
Jason turns the corner, only to have already lost Tim. The street is busy, and Jason doesn’t know which way to turn. He leans on the wall of a bodega, trying to think of anywhere that Tim would go, but it’s been so long. Tim may have been able to pick Jason out of a crowd, but Jason had been in too much shock to take in anything more than the fact that Tim was still somehow shorter than him.  
“Jason?”  
Jason whips his head up to see Tim standing in front of him, confusion across his face.  
“What,” he starts, but is brought up short by Jason grabbing him and pulling him into a tight hug.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“It took a little longer than I thought, but I promised I would come back,didn’t I?” Tim says, clinging on just as tight.

 

 _Now_  
“We’re celebrating!” Dick calls as he moves Jason out of the way and enters the condo first. “Jason got-where’s Tim?”  
“Probably in his workroom. Don’t bother him!” Jason gets out before Dick can start knocking on the door. “He’s in the middle of a proposal and is probably still on the conference call. He’ll come out when he’s done.”  
“How are we supposed to celebrate without him?”  
“We? You could go home? Celebrate with Babs, leave my home in peace.”  
“Honestly, Jason. Be nice,” Tim calls as he enters the living room, closing his workroom door behind him. “It’s amazing he’s stuck around this long with the way you treat him.”  
“You have,” Jason says as Tim walks over and greets him with a kiss.  
“I get to see you naked.”  
“Love the look, Tim," Dick says, gesturing to Tim's outfit of dress shirt, tie, and leggings.  
"Hey, they can't see below the belt. No need to get all dressed up. Plus, they could care less what I'm wearing, so long as the security products work."  
"Well, go put on some real pants because we're celebrating!"  
"We're not," Jason says as he pulls a beer from the fridge.  
"Leggings are pants, and what are we celebrating?"  
"Jason got promoted! You're looking at the newest lieutenant of Major Crimes! Moving right from East Gotham and straight to beautiful Downtown."  
"Babe, that's great!" Tim says, throwing his arms around Jason. Jason squeezes him tightly, while glaring at Dick.  
"Yeah, yeah. Still haven't given Gordon a yes or no yet, so let's keep this to ourselves."  
"Jace, this is a great opportunity for you, you should take it."  
"Maybe we should have this conversation alone?" Jason says, looking at Dick, who has wandered into the kitchen to grab a soda.  
"Relax, I was planning to leave. Just wanted to tell Tim the good news since you would have figured out a way to make it no big deal," Dick says as he waves at them, letting himself out.  
"God, I hate him," Jason sighs as he drops onto the couch.  
"This is great though," Tim says, locking the door and dropping next to Jason.  
"Is it? You think we're gonna be able to have a Major Crimes officer and a mob boss in the same house?"  
"We've been doing this for years, what has to change?"  
"Tim," Jason says, wrapping an arm around Tim's shoulders and pulling him closer. "Major Crimes deals with organized crime."  
"And? I happen to know, for a fact, that there's not a single file that mentions my name. Or Cass', or even Conner's."  
"That's the most shocking part of all," Jason grouses, earning an elbow to the ribs.  
"And we didn't have to purge anything or pay anyone off. We're good at what we do, Jason."  
"That's what worries me."  
"Don't," Tim says, turning to rise on his knees and wrap his arms around Jason's shoulders. "Don't worry. We've handled it this far. We can handle it again, and again, until Gordon finally retires and hands the keys to you."  
"You sound so sure," Jason sighs, placing his bottle on the table and pulling Tim fully into his lap.  
"I am. You're so good at what you do, and I've done my best to make sure that neither of my jobs interferes with yours. We made a deal, and I plan to keep my part of it. Now," Tim says, starting to unknot his tie. "We are in desperate need of a celebration."  
"If you keep the tie on, I'll make it worth your while," Jason says, grabbing Tim by the backs of his thighs and standing up. Tim just laughs and grabs on tighter.  
"Don't you always?"

 

 _Then  
"Hey Jason, it's Tim. Please pick up the phone. There's a lot that needs explaining, I know, but it would be better face to face. Call me? Please?"  
"Hi, it's me. I know you need some time to think, but I just really want you to hear my side. About everything. Just call me so we can talk."  
"Hey, it's me. Again. If I could take back what happened...I wouldn't, because I really didn't want to keep anything from you, it just. I just. I just really want to talk to you."  
"I told you I had to deal with the stuff about my parent's death when I left. I didn't realize just how deep they were into...into the business. And what I would have to do to dig myself out. Please, just...just talk to me Jay."  
"We just found each other again. I don't want this to be the way we lose each other."_  
Jason's head isn't in the game. His head is back at Tim's apartment. His head is thinking about the amazing weekend just before where neither one of them had to leave Tim's bed.  
They had spent hours talking about how Jason had been caught in a fencing ring by Gordon, and instead of turning him in, he had helped Jason get his GED and apply for the academy. How Dick had, for some reason, made it his personal vendetta to get Jason to be part of the weird little family he had made.  
How Tim had travelled across most of the east coast, only to end up in Metropolis looking for any information on his parents, and finally finding out what, and who, they had been involved with that lead to their deaths.  
Jason's thoughts aren't in the now. They're stuck on the moment when he mistook the hall closet for the bathroom, and stumbled across Tim's lie. How Tim had tried to explain what was going on, how he had found himself caught up on the wrong side. They're stuck on Tim's face when Jason's stomped around the apartment, grabbing his stuff. When Jason threatened to turn him in. When Jason called him the worst kind of liar.  
Jason's stuck on the past weekend, which is probably why he doesn't see the shooter creeping up behind Dick as they're clearing the house of a suspect until it's almost too late.  
Jason hollers out a warning while bodily pushing Dick out of the way. Which means instead of Dick getting shot in his kevlar covered back, Jason gets shot in his upper shoulder, right where his own vest ends. Dick turns and quickly fires off a few rounds before calling the shooting in. Jason tries to wave him towards the suspect, but any movement is making his vision black out. Dick is trying to get him into a sitting position, and he can hear the insistent buzzing of his partner's voice but he can't quite make out the words.  
All he can see is the heartbreaking look on Tim's face when Jason shut the door on him.

 

 _Now_  
"God, I hate the yearly cookout," Barbara mutters, strategically blocking the salsa from unwanted hands.  
"Then why come?" Jason asks, unbothered by the quick slaps he received when he reaches over her to grab a big scoop of salsa for his plate.  
"Because, as the commissioner's daughter, it is my sacred duty to come here and show my support for our men in blue whenever I can."  
Jason gives her a long look, blinking slowly until she cracks.  
"Dad promised he would stop 'losing' Dick's request to transfer full time to Narcotics if I would stop bitching. So this is me. Not bitching. Unless you reach over my chair again and then all bets are off."  
"Ohh, you got salsa?" Tim asks as he walks over with two beers. "Did you pay the toll? Is it a secret password?"  
"Yeah, it's 'if Redbird steals another one of my clients you'll find your electricity out for the next month'."  
"That's oddly specific," Tim says as he scoops some salsa onto a chip when Jason holds out his plate for him. "Also, slightly illegal. This place is full of cops. You gotta keep those latent crime urges to yourself."  
"Who's got crime urges?" Dick asks as he walks over with Damian in tow. "How'd you get salsa?" Dick asks, trying to nudge Damian into engaging with them instead of his phone.  
"Stop eating my food!"  
"How about a trade?" Tim asks, waving the unopened bottle near Barbara. "One bottle of your preferred brew for a scoop each of the salsa and queso. Big scoops, as this was the last bottle of Sam Adams they had."  
"Deal," Barbara says cordially, taking Jason's plate and placing her offerings on it.  
"Pleasure doing business with you. Also, you turn off my electricity, good luck having working wi-fi in any Delphi office," Tim says as Barbara hands over Jason's plate.  
"Guys," Dick says trying to take away Damien's phone while also pleading with them. "Can we go at least ten minutes without threatening cyber warfare on each other?"  
"But how will Babs know I both love and fear her?"  
"Yeah Dick, it's our love language."  
"Someone kill me," Damian groans, earning a smack on the back of the head from Dick.  
"Don't worry ,kid," Jason says, smacking Damian on the shoulder, in an almost camaraderie fashion. "Talk with any of the boys here for ten minutes and I'm sure someone will do us all that favor."  
"Thanks, Jason," Dick snaps, "So helpful. How about you go be helpful somewhere not here, huh?"  
"I think you pissed off big brother Dick. Godspeed Babs," Tim says, pulling Jason along.  
"Alright," Tim says, placing his hands on his hips and turning to look at all the off duty officers with a sharp look. "Who do we gotta schmooze to get you moved up on the list for the captaincy test?"  
"That's not how it works, babe. They don't just hand you promotions because you figured out their favorite book genre and talked to them about it."  
Tim just stares at him in incredulity as Jason stuffs another queso covered chip in his mouth.  
"Yes, darling. Yes, that's exactly how it works. If the upper brass doesn't think they can get along with you, then they'll never move you up. You hit them low, hard, and fast. They'll never even realize you talked them into a corner, and they'll just pat themselves on the back, thinking they made the decision all on their own."  
Jason stops with a chip halfway to his mouth, eyebrows raised. "You ok over there? Want to give me another look into your sick, twisted mind for crime?"  
"Please. The schmoozing may be self taught. But the ability to bend people to my will without them even noticing? That's all Janet Drake. Now, you go hit the grill, Commander Bryant is there, he's a huge Knights fan, remind him you use to know their shortstop when he lived in the boys home with us. I'm gonna go talk you up to Deputy Commissioner Bolton. He likes to gamble a little too much."  
Tim pushes up and give Jason a quick kiss on the cheek before straightening his polo. "Let's divide and conquer," he says, before walking away.  
Jason finally eats his chip, wishing he had thought to man the snack table like Barbara.

 

 _Then_  
It's worse than Jason had thought. Dick has refused to leave his side, and no one in the hospital wants to kick a cop away from their partner's bedside.  
It's been three days of recuperating from surgery. And three days of non-stop smothering. If Jason doesn't get a break from Dick he's going to either strangle him or make a break for the door, iv be damned.  
"Hi there," a voice calls from the door. It's a pretty, brown haired doctor Jason hasn't seen before. "I'm filling in for Dr. Castaneda for this round. Are you Jason?"  
"Yep," Jason grouses, wondering how many more check ups he's going to need before they release him.  
"Great. And you, sir?" She asks, walking fully in and closing the door behind her.  
"I'm his partner, Dick."  
"Oh, of course! We've all heard how brave you both were. Throwing yourself in the line of fire," the new doctor says, turning to Jason, their blue eyes filled with emotion. "Makes me get all teary-eyed. Thank you both for all you do. But," she says, cutting Dick off before he can make a sound. "I am going to ask you to leave for the checkup, officer. I'll be removing bandages, and the cleaner the environment, the less likely the chance for infection."  
"The nurses let me stay?"  
"Are you questioning me, officer?" The doctor asks, tone snapping. Dick shakes his head and gets up from his chair. He gives Jason a quick nod before heading out of the room.  
"Now, let's see what's going on," the doctor says, looking through his charts.  
"How long are you gonna keep up this game?" Jason asks, looking up at the doctor.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"Tim, come on. You think I don't know what you look like?"  
"The nose application usually throws people off enough. Plus," Tim gestures to his outfit, encompassing the perfectly coiffed hair, manicured nails, and skilled makeup.  
"I've looked at those eyes since I was eleven."  
Tim's smile is small but warm. He reaches out a hand to touch Jason's hair, but stops himself and quickly pulls it back to his lap.  
"I just wanted to make sure you were ok."  
"And you needed the getup?"  
"They won't let Tim Drake in. _Dick_ won't let Tim Drake in," Tim says, lips going tight. "Told me that maybe if you had been worrying less about my problems, you could have been more prepared."  
"He doesn't know what he's talking about."  
"Doesn't he? Because if getting shot in the chest is you working at full capacity, maybe it's time for a career change."  
"Maybe you should be talking to a mirror."  
"I won't apologize for who I am," Tim says, looking Jason in the eye. "I will apologize for the way you found out. I will apologize for lying to you. But the job doesn't define me. I would have told you this earlier, but you're a difficult man to get on the phone."  
"I can't be with someone who breaks the law for a living."  
"You're not. You're with Tim Drake. Orphan turned entrepreneur of his very own cybersecurity firm, which is doing quite well, much to the chagrin of his competitors. Tim Drake who you've known since he was nine, who made a promise that took everything to keep."  
"And the past is supposed to be enough?" Jason growls in pain more from the broken look on Tim's face than his actual wound.  
"No. No, but it's a start. I wanted to see you. Wanted to make sure you were alright. I'll leave and let you rest."  
"Tim," Jason tries to grab Tim's hand, but he slides his wrist out of Jason's loose grasp.  
"We'll talk again when you're not on so many painkillers. But let me just say one thing. I will never put your life or career in jeopardy. If it looks like something is going to go wrong, I'll leave. But I can promise that I will always do my absolute best not to let this interfere, and I will never use you. Never."  
"Tim," Jason tries to say, but he's already out the door, calling out to let Dick know he's good to come back in.  
"Man, you get all the cute doctors."

 

 _Now_  
"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this."  
"Jesus, Jason, it's a school fundraiser, not the Spanish Inquisition," Tim says, buying raffle tickets at the front entrance.  
"Why does Damian's school need a fundraiser? They're a private school!"  
"It's for the homeless shelter network. Now here," Tim says, shoving raffle tickets at Jason, "You're job is to hold those and check to see if we won. Connor is supposed to already be here."  
"Maybe he drowned while bobbing for apples already?" Jason asks hopefully even as he feels a jab in the side, but not from Tim.  
"Salty," Cass says, walking over to Tim to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.  
"Honest," Jason counters, earning a laugh from the normally reticent woman.  
"He's at the bottle game. Wasting money."  
"Oh, so normal Conner behavior."  
"I get why you don't like him," Tim says, pulling Jason to the side. Cass follows behind, pretending to look at prizes at nearby booth. “But after the whole fire and gun show? He and Cass prefer if I'm close by."  
"You are married to a cop. How much safer do they want you?"  
"Have you met Conner? No wait, forget Kon, have you met Cass?" Tim asks, crossing his arms.  
"Fine. Fine," Jason sighs, pulling Tim's arms apart and wrapping one around his own waist. "But do they really think anything is going to happen here?"  
"It's the thought that counts. Now come on, we're missing prime picking on Damian time. Sources have him manning the face painting booth," Tim says, pulling Jason along through the carnival.  
"And who exactly are these sources?"  
"Dick," Tim says laughing.  
"Oh good, just what we needed," Jason hears behind him, making his back tense up. "The fantastic duo, back together."  
Connor, for reasons Jason can't fully put into words, makes his blood boil. It could be the fact that Jason knows that while Connor's record is clean, there's no way the man has been enforcing for this long without there being some blood on his hands. It could be the fact that while Tim has kept a low profile for years, as well as Cass, Connor couldn't flaunt more that he was a made man if he had it tattooed on his forehead. Or maybe it was the overly friendly tone he always directed at Tim, the casual arm so often slung around his shoulders, the way Connor never failed to mention a time or bring up a story that Jason wasn't there for, when Tim was still off looking for answers.  
"Dick and Jason never really broke up," Tim says to Conner as he comes to walk beside him. "It's more like they're life mates, and I'm the other man."  
"Funny," Jason says, flicking Tim's ear. "Let's just find Damian, make fun of him for a few minutes while Dick snaps at us about being encouraging, and get home in time for Chopped."  
"You know exactly what to say to make me fall in love with you all over again," Tim sighs, pulling Jason down for a solid kiss.  
If Jason makes sure to watch Connor's head turn away afterwards, as Cass calls them gross, well, he thinks he deserves some pettiness.  
Just as they reach the booth, Jason's work phone goes off. He can hear the same ringtone echoing, just as he catches sight of Dick and Barbara at the face painting booth.  
Jason walks away and takes the call, calling in his position and agreeing with his commander he's too far out for backup.  
"Tim," Jason says softly as he walks back over, pulling him to the side of a game booth. Connor and Cass made themselves scarce once they caught sight of Dick.  
"What's wrong? You don't have to head in do you?"  
"Black Mask was found dead in his office just now."  
"Alright? I mean, I don't really have fond memories of him back when we were running messages but," Tim stops when Jason places a hand on his bicep, shaking him a little.  
"Don't fuck with me."  
"The fire wasn't an electrical problem. It was a full scale attack, and Roman was behind it. We had a deal, I kept my business out of his little slice of Gotham, he kept his business away from me. He reneged on his side of the terms the moment his men started shooting at mine."  
"So you had him killed?" Jason hisses, looking around as they fight. Dick is still talking to Barbara, none the wiser, and he can just make out Connor walking the perimeter of the booth.  
"He had himself killed," Tim snaps, eyes cold. "He destroyed my warehouse, started a free for all in Burnley, almost killed two of my men and three of yours I might add, and costed both our families thousands of dollars in merchandise and payoffs."  
"They'll come for you," Jason says, holding Tim by both shoulders.  
"No, they won't. Roman's boys saw the writing on the wall the moment he thought to attack the strongest gang in Gotham. How do you think I found him? You know this isn't all black and white."  
Tim's voice is like ice, his whole body poised to continue the fight. But his lips are turned down, and he's not looking Jason in the eye.  
"I know. God help me, do I know," Jason says, releasing Tim's shoulders only to bring a hand up to push Tim's hair out of his face and tilt his head so Jason can look him in the eyes. Neither one of them say anything for a moment, Jason just watches Tim relax slowly, until he slowly falls into Jason's chest, breathing deeply.

 

 _Then_  
"It's actually simpler than you think," Tim says, putting the final touches on his workroom. "Now that we've got Cass set up in her own place instead of bunking with Connor, I can keep stuff over there, and just have my Redbird stuff in our home."  
"Wouldn't it be easier though? To have it both places?" Jason asks, leaning against the door frame.  
"No. This is our home. I told you I would make sure no one knows that Jason Todd knows anything about the Hill Gang other than what's in the records. And I like not having to go into an office to work on Redbird Cybersecurity anymore," Tim says, turning on the computers and letting them boot up. He comes over to Jason and wraps both his arms around Jason's waist, leaning in to him.  
"See? Just Tim Drake and Jason Todd. Nothing else."  
"And you don't think someone is gonna come looking for you here? We're a stone's throw away from the financial district."  
"And to most of the people of Gotham, Tim Drake is a no one. To the rest, he's more than paid off Jack Drake's debts, and came out relatively unscathed. We can live wherever we want. Trust me."  
"But you're not gonna give it up."  
"I can't, not yet. With me in charge, there's been less sex trafficking in the city, and it'll continue to go down. There's less guns, too."  
"And you really think no one's gonna put it together?" Jason asks, looking around their new apartment, furniture still boxed up, air still trying to cool the place down, but shades open to show off the view of the city they had both fallen in love with.  
"No one cares about Tim Drake. Caroline Hill made damn sure of that."

 

 

“You’re Tim?” Jason asks, looking at the tiny, _tiny_ , kid that’s just been shoved into the group home sleeping area. He can see the kid is practically shaking from nerves and can barely nod his head in agreement.  
“Man,” Jason sighs shaking his head from his hard won top bunk. “They’re gonna eat you alive.”

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-out to the beatuiful, glorious [ANebulaDarkly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANebulaDarkly/pseuds/ANebulaDarkly) for the banging edits, and to L.C.H. for her soothing my relationship anxiety.


End file.
